


luster.

by dietwiceshy (maidenstraws)



Category: Shall We Date?: Obey Me!
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, M/M, Nail Painting, One Shot, Other, POV Second Person, hand holding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-17
Updated: 2020-09-17
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:33:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26516773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maidenstraws/pseuds/dietwiceshy
Summary: “I thought you wanted me paint your nails,” You pout.Asmodeus lets out a derisive snort, his affronted look smoothing into something softer, perfectly pursed lips pulling in favor of a small smile. “My nails, sweetheart." He says, saccharine sweet. "Not my hand.”[alternatively : mc's nail painting skills need some serious work, but they're happy to be there nonetheless.]
Relationships: Asmodeus (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)/Reader, Asmodeus/Main Character (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 74





	luster.

**Author's Note:**

> i wanted to take a look at asmo through a lighthearted, rose lense for once. there’s a lot to unpack @ him but uh,,, 4 now, sunshine 
> 
> fun fact : this fic is based on an actual situation between my best friend and i www

Asmodeus being picky about his appearance had to be the understatement of the century. How he looked out on the town was only second to a few select topics, exercise and a set sleeping schedule being pretty far up on the list, you could only hope you ranked somewhere up there, too.

Right now, most especially, because you weren’t exactly keen on swimming with the fishes quite yet.

“Darling,”

You press your lips tighter together, struggling to smother a nervous giggle as your shaky hands carefully glide the nail polish down immaculate nail. And cuticle. And skin.

Ah, hm. Thats not right. You use your fingertip to swipe away the excess polish, but only succeed in smearing it further.

Yikes.

"Asmo.."

You definitely made a face, or maybe you’re just super incompetent at painting nails, both, probably, because Asmodeus looks like he just stepped in gum as he studies the absolute number you’re doing on his hands. You pointedly ignore his expression and move on to the next finger.

“Sweetheart,” he tries again, you sit back on your haunches, feeling sheepish as you screw the brush back into the bottle. It was such a pretty shade of hot pink, too.

You press your palm to your cheek to smother your smile into. You’re not laughing at his suffering. “Don’t say it.” Really, you’re not. That wouldn’t be polite. It’s just that the tense comedy of the situation was, well, comedic, and you happen to be bit of a nervous laugher.

He inhales - in, two, three, four, as if trying to recollect what little dignity he has left, and lets out a sigh that racks his body. “Y/N, babe, I love you, I really do-” Asmo sits back on the ledge of the tub. “But this is the shittiest nail job I have ever seen.”

You can’t help but burst into a fit of giggles at that, hands reaching forward to capture his in a poor attempt at hiding your fun. “Hey! Don’t make fun of me. I tried my best.” You feel bad, marginally, but you’re also endeared that he let you get this far without chewing you out.

He rolls his eyes, and you rub your thumbs across the back of his hands, mindful of the drying polish on his - well, everywhere. With your nails right next to one another, the true massacre you had done to his fingers was super apparent. If you ignore the spots flecked with polish, his skin is really soft.

“I thought you wanted me paint your nails.” You pout.

Asmodeus lets out a derisive snort, his affronted look smoothing into something softer, perfectly pursed lips pulling in favor of a small smile. “My nails, sweetheart." He says, saccharine sweet. "Not my hand.”

You stick your tongue out at his snark.

“Don’t be like that.” His fingers easily slip form your grip as he twists away, reaching above you for the polish remover and what looks to be an obscene amount of q-tips. "I appreciate it nonetheless - it’s charming, kind of.”

“Sooo.. you’re not going to murder me in my sleep?”

“Hah. Funny." He flicks his hair. "Sorry but the jury’s still out on that one, peach.”

You stick your tongue out at him again for good measure and narrowly dodge him trying to poke it.

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

“No, no I think you’ve done enough.” Fair. But then Asmodeus observes his nails again, twisting his hand this way and that as if contemplating something. “Buuut, I would love a glass of water - I think the fumes are getting to me; your work may actually be, dare I say, salvageable.”

You light up at that, pleased and excited, all smiles and love and a secret bit relieved he didn’t actually take you up on your offer to help. Talk about another fiasco. But -- salvageable! That at least warrants a mental fist bump. Probably two cause this is Asmodeus we’re talking about.

You jump to your feet to go fix his glass, eager to please and eager to tease, and share a giddly laugh with your otherworldly lover. It’s a small thing, really it is, but it’s the little things that he does that make your heart flutter.

“I’ll be back!” You yell behind you as you take off.

You catch his response on the way out. “Just so you know, you are not getting near me with polish ever again! I mean that!”

**Author's Note:**

> for more of my writings check me out on tumblr @ dietwiceshy.tumblr.com !  
> requests are always open and comments are always appreciated !!


End file.
